


Search and Spin (I Found You)

by rachanlv



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Awkward Conversations, First Time, LOTS of booze, M/M, McFassy, UST, UST that becomes Resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 16:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachanlv/pseuds/rachanlv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on kink_meme prompt: The MTV Movie Awards enlisted James and Michael to reprise their roles as Professor X and Magneto, for a skit that highlighted how gay the characters are for each other by having them end up in bed together.</p><p>Being good sports, they agreed to it. So they filmed live and they were rolling around in bed together. James was trying hard not to laugh under the sheets, and moaning, "Yes, Erik, please, more, harder." Michael sort of got caught up in the moment and growled, "God, yes - James -"</p><p>James froze for a moment, but he moaned over the mistake and they carried on with the skit like professionals. Nobody else really noticed the slip. Cue the awkward talk afterwards that of course ended up in sexy-times ;D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Search and Spin (I Found You)

**Author's Note:**

> First ever McFassy fic. Yeah.

“Good evening to all of our watchers across the globe! This is MTV Movie Awards! Tonight we have a thrilling treat for all of the X-Men First Class fans out there- a footage starring Michael Fassbender and James McAvoy in a mind-blowing, coming-out of the closet action between their characters- Erik Lehnsherr a.k.a. Magneto and Charles Xavier a.k.a. Professor X. Stay tuned for their interpretation of how the actual relationship of their characters should have evolved in the course of the movie!”  
  
…  
  
‘Are you sure about this?’ he asked, voice a bit tentative, doubting whether this was a good idea or not.  
  
‘Oh, c’mon, Michael!’ the younger man said, while tugging his own shirt off, his eyes gleaming with excitement, ‘Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now?’ James abandoned his shirt somewhere on the floor, to make it look more realistic, so he said, “Who would neatly hang their shirt up, while being in the middle of some heated action?”  
  
He crashed on to the bed, his back pressed against the mattress and all of that mischievous playfulness was coming through, as those too-red lips curled into a smile. ‘It’s a bit late to back down _now_ , don’t you think?’  
  
‘Touché,’ was the reply, as Michael joined him on the bed, looming over him with a big grin on his face.  
  
…  
  
The camera was rolling live and it took a lot of self control from James not to spoil the moment for the fans, who obviously agreed that both Erik and Charles were absolutely gay for each other, by exploding into hysterical laughter.  
  
Both he and Michael were tangled in the sheets, shirtless, but with their pants on, masterfully hidden beneath the said sheets, to give the audience the idea that they’re both completely naked, while trying to bring through the real passion that Charles would have gladly give to sexually deprived Erik, to quench his thirst for physical contact.  
  
The light in the studio was set to imitate something similar to a fireplace’s glowing half-light  _How cliché,_  James thought for a moment, before returning to his skillful –to his own surprise- acting as a wanton lover of Erik Lehnsherr. Michael’s acting was top notch as well, all lust and power, just as James imagined Erik would be.  
  
The bed gave a disapproving creak as Michael pressed harder, his body flush against James’ now, bare skin on skin –it was getting hard to breathe. Everything was going along smoothly, but the devil who orchestrated this entire performance gave them a notion, written with huge letters on white paper ‘GIVE THEM MORE! KNOCK THEIR SOCKS OFF WITH HOTTER STUFF!!!’ and perhaps, James took it way too literally for his own good.  
  
His teeth sank deep into Michael’s neck, biting and licking that tender skin right below his jaw line, his own cheek grazing over the older man’s stubble. His hands were busy as well, sneaking around Michael’s back and leaving red marks there, nails digging deep, and that dead sexy voice with an even sexier accent practically mewled into Michael’s ear, ‘Faster, Erik! Please-‘  
  
A low groan and barely audible ‘Fuck- **James-** ’ was whispered in reply and a sudden thrust of hips, his very obvious erection pressing firmly into younger man’s thigh was a sudden wake up call, as James eyes snapped wide open, starring into Michael’s -stunned and shocked as well.  
  
Neither one of them knew how to react, but in a moment James regained his composure and they were back to their acting- they were professionals after all. The filming crew did not seem to notice a thing.  
  
…  
  
After strong handshakes, pats on the shoulder and nearly face splitting grins that were practically screaming ‘Right on! You got balls, man!’ from the MTV crew, Michael retreated to his dressing room.  
  
He opened the door, only to be glued to the floor as a result, not daring to move past the doorstep. James was standing there, leaning against the table, his back to Michael and not noticing the surprised expression written all over his face. He seemed to be busy with checking out the posters on the wall, his eyes wandering from one picture to another, from what Michael could tell from the mirror’s reflection.  
  
And he stared, stared at James’ back, his well-built frame, his ass, such a gorgeous ass- _fuck, Fassbender, get your head back in the game._  
  
‘Hey,’ James’ eyes were meeting Michael’s in the mirror now, ‘Were you just checking me out?’  
  
Michael could have sworn on his life that he would choke on his own heart as it stuck in his throat for that moment, but was that a  _smile_  gracing James’ face? Is he actually flirting?  
  
‘Of course not!’ That came out too loud and too frantic and too obviously not true.  
  
‘Okay, alright,’ James just rolled his eyes and could not hold in a chuckle.  
  
They needed a different course for the conversation; otherwise Michael was not sure where it would lead if they were to continue on discussing how he was ogling the younger man just now.  
  
‘You mind?’ James had pointed to the stand with several water bottles, now fully facing the other man.  
  
‘Of course not, help yourself.’ Too many ‘of course nots’ for a two minute conversation and did he sound a bit what,  _sheepish_  just now? Thank god he cannot see his own face right now, oh no, wait, he can, there he is- his own reflection looking right back at him traitorously- and that face was the definition of a love-struck idiot. Splendid, just splendid. He wondered there for a moment, does James really not notice?  
  
‘What don’t I notice?’  
  
‘How did you-?’  
  
‘No Michael,’ this time he did not hold in that laugh and it was a perfect sound, ‘I do not possess any mutant powers, you just muttered, “how does he not notice?” right now actually,’ and he exploded into laughter again, dragging Michael into the same nearly hysterical laughing fit.  
  
…  
  
It was far past midnight, and no matter how hard he tried to decipher the mysterious things that his watch was showing him, James’ mind was refusing to cooperate and do something, anything, but check Michael out as he was finishing yet another martini. His eyes followed every movement of that Adam’s apple; his gaze not leaving that delicious throat not even for a second.  
  
They were obviously doing something wrong- the moment the bottom of Michael’s glass reached the table with a loud clang, James’ vaguely functioning brain registered that it was a whiskey glass. That explained a lot, if they were drinking martinis from whiskey glasses no wonder why they were so drunk and so quickly for that matter. The only thing that still remained a mystery to James, was how did they end up here?  _Here?_  What’s this place anyway?  
  
He truly intended to enquire on their whereabouts, but all that left his mouth was: ‘You are a really, really ridiculously good-looking man, Michael.’ After finishing that sentence, he blinked a couple of times, his eyelids lazily doing their job, while his mind desperately tried to find any sort of logical connection between their location and how handsome Michael was, and failing miserably at that task. With a defeated sigh, he gulped down the remaining half of the glass in one go.  
  
Michael, on the other hand, had stopped dead in his tracks, looking astonished and royally drunk to the core, with an empty glass in one hand and a god-knows-what-number-is-it-we-lost-coun t bottle of intoxicating beverage in other, ‘Come again?’  
  
‘Pardon?’ At this level of consumed alcohol the quality of communication suffered severely, ‘You want to come?’  
  
‘Pft, you offering?’ A question asked in humorous disbelief, with a desperate hope just there.  
  
‘I might as well be.’ A dead serious answer.  
  
And an awkward, suddenly tense silence stretched out between them as the air became heavy. Neither one of them averted their gaze; they were just starring each other in the eye. ‘Pour me another one,’ James said, grabbing his glass and shifting his position to Michael’s side; supposedly, his look was an innocent and friendly one, but not after what he just said. Not to Michael.  
  
‘I think we should call it a night,’ that came out as the most insincere thing that he had ever said in his entire life.  
  
‘Oh for God’s sake-’ James reached for the bottle, his fingers closing around Michael’s just for a split second. He wanted to blame that on the alcohol and poor sight as a result of consuming the said alcohol, but they both knew that it wasn’t the case. He retreated hurriedly though, fingers grabbing the bottle’s neck, and after a minute long clutching-and-pulling-fight of who gets a hold of a precious liquor-filled treasure, Michael had won.  
  
‘Ha!’  
  
‘Ha? As in ‘Mwahahaha! I’m an Evil Sharky Martini Overlord’?’  
  
‘Shar- really?’  
  
And they both could not hold in that laugh, and it resonated and bounced off from the walls into each and every possible direction. They were laughing, and the weight of the awkward moment just dissolved into thin air; now everything seemed light and bubbly. And the way James was laughing, on the verge of hysterical giggling and _Ow, ow- my sides! Stop laughing, Michael, goddamit-_  made Michael’s head swoon. After god knows how long, they finally managed to calm down.  
  
‘But really now, a  _shark_ ?’  
  
 _Pffffffft-_  was the sound of James spitting out some of his drink, when did he manage to refill, anyway? ‘Oh no- haha! Just don’t! Don’t ask, please not now-’ And the laughing fit came back with a critical punch that went straight to James’ lungs, for there was no sound leaving his mouth, he just gaped for air, desperately trying to calm down; all the while clutching Michael’s shoulder, as if he might actually fall flat on the ground.  
  
‘W-What?’ James had finally, somehow, calmed down, for now at least. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’  
  
And it was true. Michael was staring, his eyes never leaving that beautiful face even for a moment.  _Fucking gorgeous_ .  
  
‘You’re very good-looking, too.’  
  
‘Oh, I am, am I?’ Even though James was smiling, the obvious notes of sarcasm and I-do not-believe-that were seeping through, ‘And why you are smiling like a loon? Is there something on my face?’  
  
Michael probably should have been offended by that last remark, but he really could not stop smiling, ear to ear; smiling because he was drunk and happy and proud of himself that he finally made the first step, telling James that he was handsome was a great accomplishment. On top of all that, he was very much in love with that ridiculously humble man.  
  
‘Yes, you are.’ That bold statement made James stare at him wide-eyed, and it worked like a charm, like some sort of magical boost that Michael needed to just say it all out, ‘And you have absolutely no idea. Not even a slightest- tiniest idea- of how gorgeous you really are-‘   
  
'Oh sto-‘  
  
‘I’m not done yet!’ Michael said and James’ eyes grew even wider, if that was even possible. ‘Just- you- let me finish, okay? I’m not sure that I would ever be that bold enough to say it out loud again, without sounding like a total idiot, so- shush.’ James only blinked, and Michael took that as a cue to continue, ‘You are the definition of sheer perfection- shut it! No objections- and I simply cannot understand why you are feeling so sarcastic about it. It’s not a joke, people are not making fun of you or telling lies when they say you’re handsome- I’m not lying- and you really should believe me, for I am always telling the truth and that one- about you being gorgeous is absolu-’  
  
‘Oh just shut up-’  
  
  
And it’s hot. The whole room is spinning and burning, as that hand has a fistful of his hair in a fierce grip, pressing their lips together hard enough to make it hurt. And for a split second Michael opened his eyes, only to see that those beautiful blue ones were shut tight; and he hastily, eagerly tried to memorize the constellation of those freckles, knowing that this might as well be his only chance to see them this close.  
  
He opened up, now fully consumed by this feeling, reason and logic abandoned, drowned by the ocean and more of rational thought sedating liquid as he slipped his hands under James’ shirt. Pulling him closer  _–closer-_  his own back pressed painfully against the wooden cabinet and his head held at a very wrong angle, but he did not give a damn. All that mattered to him right now was that absolutely gorgeous man sitting in his lap, straddling his hips.  
  
And as much as he wanted to do it slowly, taking in every sensation and feeling and taste of James’ lips on his, with no rush at all, he knew that he just  _couldn’t_ . It had been too long, too agonizingly long and painful, to watch from afar, to not reach out and touch, and not feel the warmth of  _this_ , this closeness, this moment.  
  
James was the one to pull away first, lack of air forcing him to. And Michael was expecting to see  _anything_  in those stunning eyes at that point, but he did not expect to see them a completely different shade of blue, dark and dazed; just staring at Michael’s lips, his own parted and bruised ever so beautifully. And the moment that tongue quickly brushed over his lower lip, Michael was gone.  
  
…  
  
It was a sharp inhale and everything around them stilled, and fearing to even breathe, he remained motionless. He was aching, every nerve and fiber of his being wanted to push forward, that scorching heat closing around him just making him want to move. But he can’t and won’t, not when those azure eyes are shut tight, and not looking back at him.  
  
The shallow breaths were the signal, the signal to hold and most probably stop, but when  _-Michael-_  stumbled from those too-red lips and the pleasure it brought to his senses, he could not help groaning and just moving forward, earning a moan he wasn’t even sure of pain or pleasure. And that not knowing was killing him, should he wait-? Should he stop?  
  
And the answer to all of his questions was a hand on his nape, pulling him down into the sweetest of kisses, tasting more like liquor than anything else, and entirely like he imaged it would be.  
  
No words. No words could ever come close in describing the feeling that just swallowed him whole. No words were needed; they just could not sustain the crashing tides of  _emotion_ . The emotion that they both had felt, Michael knew this- it had touched them both, by the way James pulled him down and buried his face in the crook of his neck, leaving marks and promises on his skin; by the way he muttered something indecipherable into the bed sheets, hoping that no one would hear, but Michael did and that little plea of  _harder_  is heard and eagerly obliged. By the way he said his name over and over again as in some delirium and Michael had little chance of holding on, now… or ever.  
  
…  
  
The morning was cruel and for the lack of a better word, merciless. Michael opened his eyes and almost immediately squeezed them shut, everything was spinning. And it was warm. And it felt surreal. He did his best and somehow succeeded in turning his head to the right and he literally forgot how to breathe. _Remarkable_ .  
  
Every lift of that chest, every flutter of those eyelashes as the man next to him murmured something in his sleep and leisurely turned onto his side, away from the rays of sunshine that snuck into the room and lit it golden. James groaned a bit, half-awake now, but still refusing to open his eyes, refusing to let sleep leave his side. Clutching the pillow, he opened his eyes –remarkable shade of blue- starring right back at him now, and suddenly that insane pounding abandoned the boundaries of his head and migrated to his heart.  
  
Oh his poor heart, it flipped and twisted, and everything is hot and cold and bleak and bright all at once. He was not even sure that he could speak, for it felt like sandpaper lined his mouth and throat, preventing any sort of sound from leaving.  
  
A smile. A genuine, sleepy and charming smile was all he needed, was all his being needed to get everything together. And it came out not as he intended and not even close to what his heart desired and his mind was screaming for,  _‘-you_ ’ and the most important part was swallowed by his heartbeat.  
  
He just hoped and prayed that  _somehow_ , James would understand and just- feel the same.  
  
‘Michael,’ James’ voice was soft as velvet and just like music to his ears, ‘I ‘you’ you, too.’


End file.
